


Winner

by Irmelin



Category: Chariots of Fire
Genre: M/M, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2004, recipient:a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-31
Updated: 2010-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-09 20:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irmelin/pseuds/Irmelin





	Winner

"Harold!" Aubrey is so pleasantly surprised to see his friend on the college grounds that he can't keep the delight out of his voice as he calls for him. Lately it seems like Harold is spending every free moment with Sam, running, running, running. Aubrey is missing him more than he's quite ready to admit. Harold stops walking when he calls and turns to face him.

"Aubrey," he says as Aubrey closes the last few feet of the distance between them. "How are you?"

"Very well," Aubrey says, smiling widely, because at that moment, he is.

"Good to hear," Harold says at the same time as he glances off into the distance. "Listen Aubrey, did you want something in particular. I'm late for a meeting with Sam."

Aubrey's smile fades away. "Right," he says, "of course you are."

Harold looks concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Aubrey says, silently berating himself for being so transparent. "It's just that..." he hesitates briefly but realises he might as well go on "... I haven't really seen much of you lately."

"I know," Harold says, "but I have to do this. Sam can help me be the best, Aubrey. I have to do this. You know that."

"Of course. I know," Aubrey says, because he does know. He knows that being the best, being the fastest means more than anything to Harold. "You seem to be able to make time for Miss Gordon though," he says before he can stop himself, and is unable to keep the bitterness from his voice."

Harold's expression turns regretful. "I'm sorry about that, Aubrey. If I had known that Sybil meant so much to you, I wouldn't have..."

"No," Aubrey says quickly, because it isn't about her. He remembers standing at the bar at the Savoy Theatre in the interval. He couldn't hide his irritation as they were waiting for Harold to come back from Sybil Gordon's loge. He knew that the others were probably laughing at his petulance, but he didn't care. When Harold finally showed up, triumphant, stealing Aubrey's champagne, Aubrey could feel himself growing more and more sullen. The others marvelled at Harold's boldness and Lindsey offered Audrey his own glass of champagne. Aubrey finished the drink quickly and refused to admit to himself that the jealously surging inside of him had little to do with the enchanting Miss Gordon and much more to do with Harold.

"No," he says again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. You should go, don't keep Sam waiting."

Harold still looks a bit uncertain, but then he nods and sprints off, leaving Aubrey staring at his retreating back.

"He isn't the sun, you know," Lindsey says from behind him.

Aubrey spins around and sees his friend walking towards him, hands in his pockets, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"The world doesn't revolve around him. Not even your world." Lindsey stops next to Aubrey. He looks after Harold briefly, and then turns to Aubrey again.

"It feels like it does, though, sometimes," Aubrey says quietly, looking at his feet. He doesn't try to deny it, or feign ignorance. He isn't sure what it is about Lindsey, but he always seems to be able to see right through Aubrey.

"It doesn't," Lindsey repeats and then he smiles and shrugs. "At least not the entire world. I'm pretty sure that a bit of it revolves around me, and maybe even around you, Monty."

Aubrey has to smile at that. Lindsey grins and starts walking backwards, waiting for Aubrey to catch up with him. "Come on. We should get dressed for dinner."

***

After Harold's less than enthusiastic response to the news that they made the Olympic team, Aubrey goes to find Lindsey and Stallard. Their reaction is much more satisfactory and he no longer feels stupid for being so excited. Stallard catches him in a bone-crushing hug before embarking on a quest to find some celebratory champagne, and Aubrey is left alone with Lindsey in Stallard's room. They sit on the cold, hard floor, leaning against the bed. It's not exactly comfortable, but they don't pay attention. Neither of them can stop smiling for a very long time and Paris is mentioned in every other sentence. When Aubrey tells him about Harold's lack of reaction, Lindsey rolls his eyes and Aubrey understands that Lindsey's just been waiting for him to mention Harold. He blushes, wondering just when Harold became the centre of his life.

"I just don't understand," he says, trying to find a way out of sounding pathetic. "Running means everything to him. Shouldn't he be excited about this?"

Lindsey shrugs, looking up at the ceiling. "I gave up on trying to understand Harold a long time ago, Monty. Stop trying to figure him out. It won't work. It's best just to leave him alone."

"I guess," Aubrey says quietly. Lindsey is probably right. Aubrey just doesn't know if he will be able to do just that. He pulls his knees up against his chest and wraps his arms around them.

Lindsey laughs suddenly and Aubrey turns to look at him.

"What?" he asks.

Lindsey shakes his head. "It's nothing really. Just... I seem to be doing this a lot lately. Giving people advice about Harold Abrahams."

"Oh?" Aubrey says, a lump forming in his throat. "Who have you been talking to?"

"The lovely Miss Gordon," Lindsey says, smiling as he looks at Aubrey.

"Oh." Aubrey says again, trying hard not to look like a petulant child. Judging from the way Lindsey's smile is growing, he's not succeeding. "Did you give her the same advice, then? To leave him alone?"

"No," Lindsey says slowly, looking thoughtful. "Not exactly."

"Why not?"

"Because she is already lost, hopelessly in love with the wonder that is our Harold." He smiles at Aubrey's confused expression. "With you, there is still a chance."

Aubrey isn't quite sure what he means. "Why do you care?"

"Maybe I'm just jealous."

"Of who?"

"Of Harold."

Suddenly he feels nervous, as if he's part of some big joke that he doesn't understand. "Why on earth would you be that?"

"He's very lucky to have you as a friend, Aubrey." Lindsey isn't smiling any longer.

"You have me too."

"No. Not like Harold. And he doesn't even know it."

He is blushing, he can tell. "What do you mean," he says quietly.

Lindsey looks at him quietly and then he leans in towards him and presses his lips against Aubrey's. Aubrey gasps in shock, but doesn't move away. Even if he wanted to, he's not sure he would know how. Lindsey pulls back and opens his mouth to speak, but in that moment Stallard bursts in through the door, champagne bottle in hand, and Lindsey is his old self again, carefree and laughing.

***

When Lindsey's running, Aubrey crosses his fingers so tight they hurt for hours when he finally remembers to untangle them. There's a brief surge of disappointment when he crosses the finishing line as number two, but it quickly dissolves when Lindsey turns to him and smiles jubilantly. Later, in the dressing room, Lindsey kisses him, which he hasn't done since that day in Stallard's room, and Aubrey was almost beginning to think he'd dreamt it. He is left breathless, as Lindsey goes to receive his silver medal. He wonders if this is what being a winner feels like.

***

He isn't a winner, though. He finishes fifth, dripping wet and humiliated. He staggers to a bench next to the track and hides his face in his hands. There are two sets of hands on his back, and he knows without looking that they belong to Lindsey and Stallard. He doesn't know where Harold is, but for once he's grateful that he's not around. He remains on the bench for ten minutes, before Lindsey comes back and drags him to his feet, leading him to the dressing room. He is silent as Lindsey removes his shoes, towels his hair, and wipes away the blood on his knees.

"I failed," he says finally, when he can't handle the silence any longer.

Lindsey looks up from where he's kneeling on front of Aubrey. "You fell," he says. "There's a difference."

Aubrey swallows furiously, trying to stop the tears.

"It isn't the end of the world," Lindsey says, his hands still on Aubrey's knees. "The world didn't end when I didn't win, Monty. It didn't end when Henry didn't win, and it didn't end when you didn't win. And despite what Harold thinks, it won't end if he doesn't win."

Aubrey laughs through his tears. "I don't know," he says. "Harold seems pretty convinced."

Lindsey smiles and rises from the floor. He takes Aubrey's hand and pulls him up too. "Come on," he says, kissing him lightly. "Let's go show Stallard that you didn't drown yourself in the shower."

***

"Do you think that I'm content?" Aubrey has gone over what Harold says a dozen times in his mind, and he's still not sure if he was complimented or insulted.

Lindsey frowns at his question. "What are you talking about?"

Aubrey shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. "Just something Harold said."

"Didn't I tell you to stop analysing everything Harold says?"

"Yes," Aubrey smiles, because Lindsey has told him just that, numerous times.

"Then stop doing it," Lindsey says sternly and then kisses him firmly.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Aubrey asks when he is able to breathe again.

"This?" Lindsey asks and leans in again, kissing him briefly.

"Yes." Audrey licks his lips unconsciously as Lindsey pulls away. "That."

Lindsey regards him quietly for a few seconds, a small smile playing on his lips. "Because I enjoy it," he says finally and touches Aubrey's cheek with warm, slender fingers. "I'm used to enjoying the more pleasurable things in life."

Aubrey raises his eyebrows sceptically. "Like me?"

"Yes, like you," Lindsey says, moving his fingers down to Aubrey's neck to stop him from shaking his head. "Is that so hard to believe? You should try to be a bit more like your namesake, Montague."

Aubrey smiles wryly. "I'm hardly a Romeo."

Lindsey laughs, kissing him again, a warm, lingering kiss, promising more. "That's what you think."

***

He feels slightly out of place and protests when Stallard and Liddell pull him up on the car. But the crowd cheers just as loudly for him as for the others, and when Liddell raises his arm high up in the air, Aubrey can't stop the smile from breaking out on his face. Harold isn't with them, but that thought disappears just as soon as it appears. Lindsey catches his eye, smiles and winks. Aubrey laughs as he sees the expression on Lindsey's face. Liddell is still holding on to his arm, and Stallard is cheering along with the crowd. Even without a medal, Aubrey knows he is a winner.


End file.
